


Round and Round and Round

by SapphyreLily



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: HQ Rare Pair Exchange 2017, M/M, unexpected first meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10118144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: Wakatoshi isn't someone who falls in love easily, but attraction is a strange thing that strikes you out of the blue.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A_Sirens_Lullaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Sirens_Lullaby/gifts).



> I don't usually write UshiSuga, and this looks horrible to me, but I hope you like it anyway!!

Wakatoshi was not a stupid man.

By all counts, he was actually quite intelligent, being in one of the advanced classes, and earning top marks in all his subjects. Yet he often heard himself being referred to as 'dumb' and ‘retarded’, and really didn’t know why.

Well, maybe now he knew why.

If there was ever a situation for which the phrase ‘struck dumb' applied – this would be it.

He was sitting in a laundromat, watching his laundry spin – really, nothing too unusual, he did this every week. There was one thing, though.

There was an incredibly good-looking guy seated next to him, scrolling through his phone, and his laundry was in the machine next to Wakatoshi's.

He was nervous. Anxious, even. It wasn’t often that he found himself stuck in a situation where he wanted to strike up a friendship – or a conversation – with a stranger, and with the millions of times his mother had drilled into him that he was being ‘too honest', he was now slightly apprehensive about speaking his mind.

First impressions did count, after all.

Satori would call this _how does one even friend_ , he mused.

But amusing though the thought was, it did not help him one bit with his predicament.

His machine had finally stopped spinning, and he moved to transfer his clothes to the dryer, then seated himself in the same spot that he was in before. He rubbed his hands together absentmindedly, the pressure of skin on skin a slight distraction from the scenarios his mind was playing out.

The man beside him stood; his laundry was done, and he had to transfer it to a dryer–

Except that he was _not_ doing that. He was walking out.

He did exactly what his mother would have told him not to do: he asked.

“Are you not going to dry your clothing?”

The man stopped in his tracks, half-turned with a polite smile. “I’m going to dry it at home. I prefer to sun my clothes, they just smell better, you know?”

Wakatoshi did not know.

“But why would you not use the dryer if it is available to you?”

The man's smile grew wider. “Preference. Now, I need to go, but maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Goodbye.”

The man nodded a little and ducked out of the laundromat, leaving Wakatoshi to rub at his hands and stare at his drying clothes.

\-----

“Wakatoshi-kun, you did _what?!”_

Wakatoshi stared at his hands. “I wish I knew better words.”

Satori latched on to him, whining. “Your words are fine, but why didn’t you ask for his number? Or his name?”

“It is not polite to ask a stranger that, is it not?”

Satori sighed. “Screw politeness. You’re on a _mission._ ”

“I fail to see how asking for a name is considered a mission.”

“You already started a conversation, asking for names is the next step.”

“But what about–”

“Politeness is something people like to hear from others, you can ignore it.”

“Mother said–”

“Your mother is too strict, and you don’t live with her. Follow your own rules.”

Wakatoshi was stumped. “How does one make rules?”

Satori shook his head. “You’ll get it eventually. But first, go get that guy’s name.”

\-----

It clearly wasn’t as easy as Satori made it out to be.

Wakatoshi did his laundry once a week – logically, the man he had seen would do the same, but they might not be in the laundromat at the same time.

He tried going at the same time he had the previous week – early morning, if he remembered correctly – but the man was not there. There was somebody else though, someone he met at this hour every other week.

“Sawamura. How are you?”

The other looked up and cracked a small smile. “Good. And you?”

“The same.”

They sat, staring at their laundry spinning. It was comfortable, a practiced routine that had him relaxing.

Sawamura broke the silence first – nothing new, he always did. “So, did you see Suga last week?”

“Suga?” He knew no one of that name, though he did remember seeing someone – a very handsome someone.

“Grey hair, brown eyes, a little shorter than me?”

He definitely remembered him, and was glad to have a name to fit his profile. “I hadn’t noticed he was shorter than you.”

Sawamura grinned. “It’s just 2cm, but he kicks up such a fuss about it.”

Wakatoshi thought for a bit. “Satori occasionally does the same.”

“Ah, he’s shorter than you too?”

“Yes.”

“We should get together some time. Flaunt our height.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

His friend laughed. “No, I suppose not. Maybe I’m still a little excited.”

“Ah. What about?”

“I've got a date tomorrow, and listen to this…”

It was easy, Wakatoshi thought, to talk to Sawamura. But some things still felt too awkward to bring up between friends, or rather, he didn’t know how to turn the topic back.

Sawamura had finally tapered off, still grinning madly, while they transferred their clothes to the dryer, so he tried to change the topic.

“Suga-san said he doesn’t like using the dryer.”

_Too direct!_ The voice screaming in his mind sounded eerily like his mother.

But Sawamura didn’t look fazed at all – he shrugged. “Suga’s weird about his ‘sun-dried’ clothes, but as long as he makes me do the laundry, it’s going to be dried in the dryer.”

“I see. Does he not mind?”

“Oh, he minds. But if he’s too lazy to do his own laundry – and he always is, he’s only done it himself _once_ – then that’s really too bad for him.”

“You are exceptionally vicious towards your friend,” Wakatoshi observed, and Sawamura laughed.

“I may be slightly angry at him,” he admitted. “He forgot to go grocery shopping though it was his turn, and now we have no eggs.”

Wakatoshi felt a smile quirk his lips. “Heaven forbid you do not get your eggs.”

“Exactly! But then he _had_ to forget, so his clothes can go into the dryer–”

“Daichi!”

It was a shout, a call of panic, but Wakatoshi had never seen Sawamura so determined as he slammed the door and pressed _Start_ – just as the caller burst into the laundromat.

The sun lit up his hair like a halo, turning it a burning white, up until he straightened up and faced them – and suddenly, he was the devil.

Wakatoshi had never seen someone's face so black.

The man – Suga – stomped over to Sawamura, looking between him and the dryer, noting the time on it and the defiant tilt of his friend’s chin.

“Really. _Really?”_ Suga seethed, jabbing him in the chest. “I call to you to wait, and _this_ is how you respond? By putting my clothes in that accursed dryer?”

“I’ll do my laundry any way I want,” Sawamura replied stiffly. “That includes yours, since it’s all laundry when it’s lumped together like that anyway.”

“Betrayal.” Suga hissed, backing away. “I will get back at you, Daichi, see if I won’t.”

“This is your fault for forgetting the eggs,” Sawamura pointed out, and Suga folded his arms angrily.

“Well, then, I’ll forget something _else_ next time, like your suit at the drycleaner’s or something–”

“You wouldn’t dare–”

“Oh, really?”

“No, actually, you would,” Sawamura admitted, rubbing the back of his head. “So I’m going to go get that suit myself, and you can wait with the laundry.”

“Daichi, no, I have other things to do–”

“Goodbye. See you later, Ushijima.”

Wakatoshi nodded in response, and Suga whipped round to face him with a slightly surprised look.

“Hello,” Wakatoshi began, but Suga eyed him with suspicion.

“Did you let Daichi put my clothes in the dryer?”

“Yes.” Wakatoshi was confused. What did that have to do with anything? “He said that he will do his laundry any way he sees fit, and I do not see any reason for stopping him.”

“But you know I like to sun my clothes!”

“I have only met you once. I have known Sawamura for far longer, so forgive me if I do not think it appropriate to prevent him from doing his laundry any way he wishes to.”

Suga groaned. “Fine. But next time, stop Daichi.”

“Is this the first time he is doing laundry on your behalf?” Wakatoshi honestly couldn’t understand what the fuss was about.

“No, but I’m tired of him putting my clothes through the dryer.”

“Perhaps you should do your own laundry, then.”

“That’s what I told him I’d do, but he took my clothes anyway.” Suga had on what Satori would call a _sour look_ , though Wakatoshi didn’t quite understand the significance himself.

“I see.” _This is needlessly complicated._ “Wouldn’t you like to take a seat? The dryer will take some time.”

Suga turned and flopped onto the bench, arms folded, and stared at the dryer like it had offended him and his entire lineage.

_Well,_ Wakatoshi thought, _he does think it is an awful creation._

He seated himself beside the man, listening to the calming sound of the laundry tossing.

“How may I address you?” He asked, after what he felt was an appropriately long silence. It was difficult to get the words out – it must be his underlying nervousness – and though he paused for a bit too long between words, it was too late – the words were out in the open.

He half turned to face him, and saw him sigh a little, before a sunny smile made its way onto his face.

“I’m Sugawara Koushi. Call me Suga.”

“Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

“Nice to meet you, Ushijima-san. I won’t hold Daichi’s betrayal against you, I promise.”

“But I was not involved at all.”

“That’s why I won’t hold it against you,” he told him. “Because you were an unknowing accomplice.”

“I see.”

(He did not see, not remotely.)

Silence descended upon them again, and Wakatoshi was floundering for a ‘safe topic’ when Suga broke the silence first.

“So what are you studying?”

_That is appropriately safe,_ Wakatoshi thought, and filed the question away for future reference.

“Animal Science.”

“You like animals.” It was a statement – a surprised one, but a statement nonetheless. It was a slight change from the other question he usually got – _oh, you like animals?_ – and he was more than happy to elaborate.

“I do like animals, but I am in this field for the agricultural aspect. It is fascinating, the way that farmers raise and breed their livestock, and how there are so many factors involved in making the harvest a bountiful one.”

“You make animals sound like a crop of plants to be harvested,” Suga said, amused. Wakatoshi smiled a little.

“Perhaps so. I do not know many words, and that is the closest descriptor I can think of.”

“Is that so.”

“Yes. What do you study, Suga-san?”

“Sociology. I find people intriguing, the way you do with animals.”

“It’s not the animals as much as it is the process of rearing them.”

“No?”

“Yes. For example…”

\-----

Wakatoshi couldn’t quite believe it. He managed to hold a conversation on his own, and with _a good-looking man_ , for all of thirty minutes – about as long as the dryer took to dry their clothes.

And he had come away from that conversation with not only a phone number, but also a date for their next meeting.

Satori would be so proud of him.

“A DINNER DATE!”

He moved away slightly, but Satori only leaned back into him, still screaming.

“You got a dinner date on your second conversation! Wakatoshi-kun is all grown up,” he sniffed, and Wakatoshi furrowed his brow.

“It is only dinner at his house,” he informed him. “Sawamura will also be present.”

“Kick him out, and have a date with Mr. Good-Looking.”

“It is his apartment as well. I cannot do such a thing.”

“Well, then, _I_ will. Tell your man that I’m coming along.”

“I do not think it is polite to invite yourself–”

“Wakatoshi-kun, you should know by now that I don’t really care about politeness.”

“That is true.”

“Go on, then. Call and tell him I’m inviting myself. I’m showing up even if he says no, just so you know.”

“Alright.”

“What, no argument? Today is truly a good day!”

\-----

Suga did not really mind the extra person – he said that he wanted an excuse to cook, anyway. And that was all fine and dandy, except Satori absolutely _insisted_ on going an hour early.

“But it is not nice to be too early. The other party may not be ready to receive us.”

“Wakatoshi-kun,” Satori began, with all the patience of a long-suffering man, “What do I do best?”

“Be a friendly and supportive friend?”

“No! Well, yes, thank you, but no, that’s not what I was talking about.”

“Bake excellent brownies?”

“Again, thank you, but no. I’m not talking about food.”

“I do not know, then.”

“I like to _antagonise_ people. Which means we’re going to be impolite and go early!”

“But–”

“Wakatoshi-kun, _please_.”

“I do not agree with this–”

“Let’s go!”

Wakatoshi really did not want to ruin his second impression – or was it the third? – but he was still dragged unapologetically to Suga’s doorstep, the bell rung obnoxiously in quick succession.

It wasn’t thirty seconds later that the door was flung open, a frazzled-looking Suga behind it. He looked shocked to see them, even going as far as slamming the door in their faces.

It was re-opened a few seconds later, with an exasperated, “You’re too early!”

“My apologies,” Wakatoshi began, but Satori cut him off.

“Oh, are we? So sorry! Could we come in?”

The silver-haired man looked taken aback, but opened the door wider and invited them in, leading them to the couch and offering tea.

“I’m not done cooking – I was just about to start, really – but please, make yourselves at home.”

“Of course!” Satori called back cheerily, and Suga’s lips pressed into a thin line. Wakatoshi ignored them, eying the ingredients on the counter with interest.

“Would you mind if I watched you cook? I would be interested in learning some new techniques.”

Suga turned to him, expression brightening. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind. Oh, wait, I’ll just leave the TV on. Go ahead and choose your favourite channel,” he told Satori, who gleefully picked an anime to watch.

“What are you going to cook?”

“Oh, just pasta.” Suga opened a cupboard and pulled out a saucepan and a pot. “A simple meal, because we’re poor college students.”

“Western food.” Wakatoshi leaned against the counter, impressed. “Is it easy to make?”

“That depends on your preference, but yes, generally so.” The silver-haired man turned around and brandished a jar. “This is the secret to easy pasta.”

Wakatoshi took it and peered at the font. “Tomato sauce?”

“In a jar!” Suga beamed and took it back, setting it on the counter and shuffling off. “Of course, making your own tomato sauce would _probably_ taste better and be healthier, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Do you know how to make your own pasta sauce?”

“Mm, no, but that’s what Google is for.” Suga winked, and Wakatoshi felt his heart flutter.

“I see.”

“Mmhmm. While the water’s boiling, could you help me break this? Just snap it in half, inside the packet.”

Wakatoshi took the packet of dry pasta from him, staring at it in bafflement for a few moments before trying.

As it turned out, breaking pasta was not that easy, but Wakatoshi thought he did an okay job. He didn’t put too much effort into it, because he didn’t particularly want to pierce the bag with the broken pieces.

Suga looked up from where he was preparing the garlic, and directed him to pour the pasta into the boiling water. Wakatoshi did, but that left quite a lot of bits of pasta sticking out of the water – he didn’t break it as well as he thought he did.

There was a pair of tongs in his vision, grabbing the softened pasta and pushing it into the water. “Here. Just use these to push the dry bits in and keep stirring with it until it’s all in. Pasta’s a pain when you don’t know how to prepare it.”

“Indeed.” Wakatoshi mimicked Suga’s earlier actions until all the pasta was submerged, then awkwardly set the tongs on the counter and stepped back to watch him.

The garlic and other ingredients were chopped and ready to be cooked, so he just watched as Suga washed up. He seemed very at ease in the kitchen, confidently scrubbing at the utensils and placing them on the rack, and seemed at peace. Wakatoshi could feel a smile tugging at his lips.

“Stir the pasta a little. I’ll come over and add some oil and salt in a bit.”

Wakatoshi thought this odd. “Why do you need to add oil and salt?”

“For flavour, and so the pasta doesn’t stick to each other too much.” Suga glanced at him from under his eyelashes, then grinned. “Nah. I actually have no idea why you have to add oil, but the person who taught me to cook told me to add oil, so I just follow his instructions.”

“Is that so.”

“Yep. Alright, that should be done in a bit. You can go sit with your friend, if you want. This part is boring.”

“No, that’s alright.” Wakatoshi didn’t really want to leave. “What are you adding to the pasta?”

“Oh, the other ingredients?” Suga turned to the plates of chopped ingredients, pointing each one out. “Garlic, onion, green and red peppers, carrots, minced beef. Not very much.”

“Peppers are expensive.”

“Those were on sale. Alternatively, you can use broccoli, that tastes good. Or zucchini.”

“…I should take notes.”

“I can send you the recipe, it’s no trouble.”

“Thank you.”

“As long as you remind me about it later. I _might_ forget.” Suga reached over to turn the fire off. “Could you help drain the pasta? Just like this, make a little gap and pour the water out. I’ll start making the sauce.”

“Alright.”

Pasta sauce was pretty simple to make.

“That looks like stir-fry.”

“Well, I guess it is. But once you add in the tomato paste, it’s instantly pasta sauce.”

“But it is still tomato sauce with stir-fry.”

“You have a point. But hey, that’s what Westerners call it. In the end, it’s just food, so what does it matter?”

He had a point, Wakatoshi thought.

Suga tapped his wooden spoon against the rim of the pot. “Alright, help me pour the pasta in. Yep, just like that. Thanks. Leave the saucepan in the sink, I’ll clean up.”

“Would you mind if I helped you wash?”

“Wha– No, no, please, don’t force yourself! You’re my guest, and I shouldn’t have let you help me in the first place, I’m so sorry.” Suga looked flustered, but Wakatoshi shook his head.

“I do not mind at all. It was a lesson, and I am grateful to have learnt something new today.”

“I still shouldn’t let you wash.”

“You can wash when you come over to my house,” Wakatoshi said. “As recompense for you cooking dinner this time, I would like to make you a meal in future.”

“Ah, well,” Suga was red, a healthy blush that was very endearing. “Okay then.”

Wakatoshi smiled a little, and started washing the used plates.

\-----

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

“It was nothing. I was glad to have you over.”

Satori was in the bathroom, and Sawamura had excused himself somewhere – it was just the two of them. Wakatoshi rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I will see you around, then.”

“No need to be so formal,” Suga smiled. “We will see each other at the laundromat, and if there’s anything you need, just drop me a text.”

“What if I just want to see you again?”

Suga stared for a moment, then burst into giggles, eyes dancing. “That was forward.”

“I am sorry. I keep forgetting how to censor my words.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it! It’s very nice to have someone so blunt and straightforward.” Suga grinned, leaning against the wall. “I’ll send you my schedule later. We could work out some study times.”

“But we do not study in the same course.”

“Does it matter? You don’t have to study the same thing to study together.”

“You make an excellent point.”

“Thank you.”

“Wakatoshi-kun, are you read– Oh.”

Satori disappeared back around the corner, leaving them staring after him.

Suga broke the silence first, snorting softly. “Well, that’s that. I’ll text you later, alright?”

“Yes. Thank you again for having us.”

“No problem. Tendou-san, you can leave now.”

Satori’s hair peeked out from behind the wall, followed by the man himself, wearing a big grin. “Oh, don’t let me interrupt. Do the kiss goodbye or whatever.”

“I do not–”

“Tendou-san,” Suga began sweetly, “Ushijima-san and I are not that close to be sharing a kiss. Yet,” he added, glancing up with a quick smile. “So we are quite done here, and you can leave.”

“Aww, Koushi-kun, so rude!”

“You are most welcome. Bye. Ushijima-san, I’ll see you soon.”

He returned his smile, a soft quirk of lips, what he thought was a relaxation of his usual stern expression.

“See you soon.”

\-----

His phone _beeped,_ and he opened it up to see a new message.

**[Suga]:** Tuesday afternoon Im free. Coffee?

He smiled at the screen, typing his own reply.

**[Ushijima]:** I’ll be there.


End file.
